The Domino Effect of Tragedy
by UnderscoreInsanity
Summary: "Anything is better than home." Funny how sometimes your own words jinx you. Rated T for violence, language, possible character death in later chapters, and depressing themes. My first HetaOni story. Please review if you like it. Thanks .
1. Chapter 1

**Build**

I won't lie and say that I remember everything that happened in those two days. I remember about how long we were there, in that old, too clean house. Around thirty-six hours. That was all, and yet what happened in that time . . . I remember most of that, too. Mostly the tormenting, haunting stuff that taunts and picks at your mind, even in your dreams. But it seems like I never get to sleep anymore.

Everyone tells me that I should be happy with my life. I should rejoice having been able to leave, and having been able to take another breath of fresh air. But every time I feel the sun warm my skin, or feel even a tiny shred of happiness for any reason, I remember the faces of the people I left behind. And I feel guilt in the pit of my gut. Horrible, crushing, agonizing guilt that makes it hard to keep myself going. I didn't know what I could do to honor their memories, so I'm writing this. Their story. Our story. With the help of the other people that made it out with me. Our last testament to the world, describing the horror that comes with surviving a tragedy.

It all really started around a year before the actual event. I was around seventeen at the time, and I was bored. I played a computer game to pass the time. 'Heta'-something. I don't really remember the title. Either way, I played it, alleviated my boredom for a short time, and was done with it. But that day, I came home from school late. I was pretty beat-up looking from a run-in with one of the more bellicose kids at my school. My parents were far from pleased.

My mother screamed at me, telling me that I was useless, and that I could never take care of myself. My father watched, disappointment directed towards me in his eyes, as my mother screamed and hit. It was almost forty-five minutes later when I was allowed to go to my room. I was supposed to go without dinner again, so I was going to be up here for a while. I grabbed my laptop and plopped onto my bed, moving the mouse to check my email.

There was a message from somebody whose name I didn't recognize. I don't usually- actually, I don't ever- get talked to by people I don't know, so I assumed it was a new address from one of my old friends. Either way, the message was short. "Come with us" or "Join us" or something like that. I didn't understand it, but there was a file attached. I opened it up, and found a link 'copy-and-pasted' into a word document. Thoroughly irritated, I clicked the link and followed it. It opened up a website with download links for the game I'd played over a year before.

A new update had been posted, so I inwardly shrugged and downloaded it. Had I known beforehand what torment would arise by my downloading this, I swear to God, I would have left it alone. But how was I to know that a simple game would cause such a ruckus in this petty, boring existence? Before then, I had always believed that any change, any event out of the ordinary at all, would be infinitely better than what I had now. And that always made sense, having been born into a world that hates me; that pulls me down and relishes the feeling of me failing. But this change . . . The entire world would have been so much better off without this place ever existing.

Everything was normal at first. I downloaded the game, played it in complete and utter silence, and made sure to pretend I was sleeping fitfully when my mother checked in on me. But after about an hour of playing, my computer crashed. I have no idea why; if it was a technical failure, or something planned beforehand, but it shocked me to say the least. So I did the only thing I could do; I sat there and stared at the ceiling until I fell asleep.

At first, when I cracked open my eyes and felt the cool air blanketed around me, I thought I was dreaming. In fact, I was certain that this was a dream. I sat up slowly, noticing right away that I was still in pain from the earlier day. It wasn't until I heard a groan of pain echo through the hallway that I noticed I wasn't alone. I looked around wildly, trying to find the source of such a pained voice. I couldn't see anyone, and the sound had stopped, so I had to give up the short search.

Sighing heavily, I started to walk around the room. It looked similar to my own, actually. No windows, but small, with a desk, a shelf, and a bed. The only difference was the striking cleanliness. I mean, sure my room was clean, but this place was literally _spotless_. Little did I know that these four grey walls would soon become a battlefield. I sat down lightly on the bed, my head in my hands. I really just wanted to wake up. These dreams were always torture to walk through.

I shot back up the instant I heard a loud crash and swearing, muffled and off to one side. That's when I noticed a closet tucked neatly into the corner. I quietly made my way towards the door, making sure to stay dead silent. I don't quite describe what I was feeling at that moment, but I couldn't have been hope that was crushing my gut like a vice.

Unsure of how to approach the situation- as there had definitely been someone inside the rickety old closet- I raised my hand. I was just about to rap gently against the door when the sound of footsteps from the hallway startled me, causing me to let out a childish squeak. The door to the hallway opened, and a young-looking Asian man, about my height, stopped in his tracks.

"Oh." He recoiled a bit into the hallway, clearly embarrassed, as I was likely not who he had expected to find in here. "I'm terribly sorry, I did not mean to-."

"Who are you?" I asked, cutting him off. Rude, I know, but I was confused. "What is this place? Where am I?"

The man tilted his head in the tiniest gesture of confusion. "You don't know where you are?" He walked inside the room, shutting the door carefully behind him. "That certainly is odd. Um, my name is Japan." He extended his hand, presumably expecting me to shake it.

"Japan? Sir, you must be mistaken." I shook his hand anyway. "My name is Lana. Pleased to meet you."

The man nodded, withdrawing his hand uncomfortably. "Hello, Miss Lana. I can assure you that, yes, I am indeed Japan. The personified form of the country, I suppose."

I scoffed; a sort of snorting laugh, signifying that I didn't believe him. I applied pressure to the bridge of my nose gently with my forefinger and thumb, developing a bit of a headache. "Alright," I muttered "Suppose this is just a new version of dream."

The man looked like he was going to say more, but decided against it. "Well, Miss, I was just trying to find my companions so that we can leave, but if you'd like to come along with me . . ."

He didn't need to finish his sentence. I may never have been very trusting, but I could find no fault or reason not to trust this man. "Of course!" I answered with vigor. "Much better than dying alone, don't you think?"

And as the two of us began to talk more about the house we found ourselves held prisoner in, I swear I could feel the dread beginning to build in my stomach, which would always inevitably end in a climax of mass suffering for all those involved, and even some who weren't.


	2. Chapter 2

Actual, Physical Pain, On More Than One Account

Looking back on these events now, I realize just how stupid I was, thinking even for a second that everything would be all right. I feel a little sick, honestly. I wanted to believe, _so badly_, that I'd be able to somehow stop anything bad from happening to anyone else. That's what I believed when I was with my parents. I was able to keep bad things from happening to them, as long as I took whatever they dished out. However, it would seem that this hypothesis was incorrect.

Japan and I had picked up his friend, Germany- who had been the unceremonious source of the noise from the closet- and we were on our way to the library that the blonde nation had found a key to. We walked in a tense almost-silence. The two men trailing behind me talked in low voices about who I was, trying to figure out how I'd just _woken up_ here.

As the two talked, I rolled my eyes irritably and fitted the small silver key into the lock on the library's door. I smiled to myself as the click of the key stopped the near-silent chattering. I heard Germany swallow quite audibly as I eased the heavy door open. The second the three of us stepped into the room, I heard muffled, heavy-sounding footsteps, and I held the boys back. We watched in silent awe as a huge, grey _thing_ stepped in and out of view for a moment before completely vanishing between the bookshelves.

"What the _hell_ was that?" I asked, my voice weak and shaking.

Japan looked at me, defiance masking fear in his eyes. "That was the same monster I saw earlier, Miss Lana."

"Monster . . ." I repeated, feeling around the word. "Huh . . ." Of course, I didn't believe for a second that any of this was really happening, so I wasn't too worried.

The three of us moved cautiously into the room, knowing by pure instinct that something was in there. I lead the group, armed with one of Japan's katana. Why he was carrying two, I'll never know, but I'm glad for it to this day. I checked down every row of shelves, holding the sword out in front of me rather like a gun than a blade. When I couldn't find the thing anywhere, I wasn't sure whether to sigh in relief, or scream in frustration. However, in the last row, I found something I really wasn't expecting.

"Guys!" I shouted urgently, dashing into the row. "There's a kid here!" I rushed forward, dropping to my knees to examine the tiny body.

The girl had to be younger than ten years old. She was skinny- uncannily so, like she hadn't eaten a proper meal in years. I could relate. Her black hair and pale skin stood out against the wood flooring, and she had on a brightly colored sweatshirt, stained dark with blotches of blood. A scar ran down her face that looked fairly recent.

"Who is she?" Japan asked as he leaned down beside me. "Someone you know? She looks like you." I didn't agree. My hair was caramel brown, and my skin was slightly tanned. I was probably as skinny and beat-up as her, though. Poor girl.

I shook my head. "Never seen her in my life."

The girl began to stir slightly as we talked, whining out in pain before her eyes fluttered open. "Uh . . .?" She muttered quietly. "Who are . . .? Where's mama?"

I shook my head at her, frowning sadly. "I don't know, sweetie. Are you okay?"

She nodded gently.

"My name's Lana. Lana Collins. What's yours?"

"I'm Lucy." She stated, smiling widely. She was missing a tooth.

I smiled back. "Well, it's very nice to meet you, Lucy. How old are you?"

"Nine and a half."

Japan let out a surprised squeak. "She's trapped in this house with that thing and she's only nine?"

Lucy pouted. "Nine and a _half_!"

I nodded. "Exactly, Japan. Nine and a half." I turned back to Lucy. "Do you have any idea where you are, sweetie?"

She shook her head slowly.

"Alright." I sighed heavily. "Well, don't worry. We'll keep you safe and sound, won't we, boys?"

Both nations nodded, both looking slightly disturbed at the idea of a child being trapped here. God knows, I was worried too, but I wasn't about to show it, and risk scaring Lucy.

"Well, let's go." I helped Lucy stand up, and the four of us walked back out into the clearing, where a large table sat. I walked up to it, shifting papers around, looking for the something I knew needed to be there. I smiled to myself when a silver sheen caught my eye. I lifted the little key up, staring at it for a moment. "Alright, guys, let's-."

I was caught off guard by Japan's startled cry. The second I whipped around to see what had happened, Lucy let out a terrified scream. I would have screamed, too, had I gotten the chance. The grey thing from before was standing before us, it's great size filling most of the room. I lifted my katana in defense, but found it useless as the thing swatted me aside like an insect.

That was when reality struck me. I felt pain. That had never happened in a dream before. Not once. My dreams were my sanctuary; the one place where my mother couldn't hurt me. To feel this amount of pain in a dream was unthinkable. I had the wind knocked out of me, and a sharp pain in my gut told me that I'd broken another rib.

Lucy's screaming brought me back from my thoughts. When I saw the thing moving towards her, a protective instinct took over. I bit back the pain, rushing forward, and I stuck the sword straight through the creature's ribs. An eye for an eye, as the saying goes. I definitely heard a crack.

The monster screeched in anger and agony, and dissipated like smoke, evaporating into the air.

Suddenly, all at once, the full force of my injury hit me like a semi. I crumpled to the ground, my vision becoming hazy before entirely blacking out.


End file.
